Division
by NeoNails
Summary: "I work for a burgeoning branch of the government, and we would like to offer you a job." Why would anyone in the government want her?


So, I have successfully obsessive-watched my way through the whole of the _Justice League_ seasons on Netflix (with the exception of Epilogue, but that's because I'm saving it for after I finish _Batman Beyond_). For the record, putting these shows online three weeks prior to my finals was cruel and unusual.

In any case, it got me inspired. I don't want to say that I'm continuing this, largely because I'm not sure. I don't want to start something when there's a good chance I won't have the time or the energy to finish it. For the time being, I think this will stay as it is, which is a cracky little oneshot.

$4$

_I won't go as a passenger, no  
Waiting for the road to be laid  
Though I may be going down  
I'm taking flame over burning out_

- "Uncharted," by Sara Bareilles

* * *

It took her approximately four and a half minutes to notice that they were tailing her. She grimaced, because that was longer than she would have liked to admit. She hoped she wasn't losing her touch.

She didn't slow down or speed up, because that would be too obvious of a tell. When she reached the intersection, she hung right when she should have stayed straight for another two blocks. The streets were alternately dark and light, alleys and closed stores juxtaposed with flashing cars and neon signs. This was her element, and she was grateful that they hadn't tailed her anywhere else. It was too easy for someone as slight as her to blend in, particularly with all the recessed doorways.

She spotted them immediately, two clichéd spooks in trench coats and everything. She frowned when she recognized the stance and the gait of the one. Navy SEAL. She wasn't sure she was good enough to beat that.

Several steps behind them, a third man, older and graying, rounded the corner. She would have assumed he wasn't with the spooks if it was for the little fact that she _knew_ him.

"General Stein." She didn't intend on calling out his name, but the words were out and she had nothing else to do but step forward. "Any particular reason you and your goons are tailing me tonight?"

If he was surprised, he didn't show it, like a good little soldier. "You're a hard woman to get a hold of."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's not done accidentally," she drawled, stepping out of the Cash 4 Gold doorway as his two lackeys stumbled to a halt some ten feet ahead.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," he assured her, smiling proudly. "In fact, that's the reason I'm here to see you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "That so?"

The General's smile grew wider. "I have a job opportunity for you. One I believe you won't turn down."

She smiled back. So much for another boring night at home. It was a good thing she never liked those, anyway.

* * *

Felicity punched in the code to the basement, humming a little tune to herself. At some point in the ensuing madness of her life, working for Oliver as his tech minion had picked up its own kind of regularity. She wasn't sure how to explain it, and she wasn't even sure when it happened. In the course of doing a job that contained zero certainty of anything, she had carved out a routine amongst the mayhem.

The surest sign of her predictability was in her reactions. She didn't so much as bat an eye at the boys battling it out in the corner of the room, which said pretty much everything she needed to know. She was sure if she was proud or disappointed that she had gotten so used to seeing Oliver shirtless and sweaty.

She dropped her stuff on her designated desk, swiping the mouse to get the computer out of sleep mode. As she did so, she heard the faint sound of her phone going off. Brow furrowing, Felicity dug through her lime green purse until she found the vibrating phone and checked the number. Blocked.

Doubtlessly a telemarketer, but it never hurt to check. "Hello?"

"Felicity Smoak? This is Camille Janing." The woman on the other end sounded cool, collected, and in charge. Definitely not a telemarketer.

"Yes?" she asked. She, on the other hand, sounded unsure and nervous, like always.

"I work for a burgeoning branch of the government, and we would like to offer you a job."

Felicity opened her mouth—to say what, she had no clue, possibly to babble, because that sounded very, very sketchy. Why would anyone in the government want her? Before she could possibly formulate a response, the other woman continued. "We've been studying you for quite some time, Ms. Smoak. You are very talented, not to mention intelligent and resourceful to boot. You would be the perfect addition to our tech department."

She hesitated, glancing behind her surreptitiously. Oliver and Dig were deep in their sparring session. Of course, just because they were occupied didn't mean the former wasn't capable of paying attention to what she was doing. Ollie was tricky that way. "I'm sorry, I already have a job—"

"It would be once a week, Ms. Smoak. Hardly enough time to cut into your extracurricular activities, let alone career."

Felicity's blood ran cold. Surely she couldn't be referring—she didn't know—

"We're having a preliminary meeting on Saturday at 2 pm. We'll be sending you the location via text. Please think of attending, Ms. Smoak. You won't regret it."

She was pretty sure she was already regretting it. Inhaling shakily, she nodded, and then realized what she was doing. "Umm. Okay."

"Wonderful. Looking forward to seeing you there."

She ended the call, eyes going wide when she noticed Oliver striding over to her with a questioning look on his face. "Everything okay?" he asked.

She chewed on her lip. She knew she ought to tell him the truth—particularly if this was a risk to his operation—but something held her back. She wanted to investigate this on her own first. "Umm, yeah," she replied, setting her phone on the desk behind her. "My boss called. He wants me to work on Saturday. Some kind of… server update… thing."

He cocked his head, and for a terrifying moment she worried that he had smelled her lie. Instead, he nodded once and smiled. "Alright," he agreed. "Call us when you're done."

She nodded—because that was all she was capable of right then—and wondered, not for the last time, what the hell she had gotten herself into.

* * *

Gotham. That was where that crazy chick had sent her. All the way out to Gotham freaking City. She should have just not gone, but she was so curious—and determined to know what Camille knew about their "extracurricular activities"—that she left, cursing the entire damn three and a half hour drive to Gotham freaking City. She really was a glutton for punishment.

She had visited Gotham a handful of times in her life, and every time she was reminded of the eerie similarities between it and her Starling City. There was so much darkness and grit, and Gotham was rumored to have an even worse crime rate than back home. Of course, back home she knew the streets and knew there was always Ollie to protect her; she was much less sure of Gotham.

The building she had been directed to was nondescript, gray and glass like any other office building. At least she was in the nicer part of Gotham, somewhere between the GCPD and Wayne Tower, the only two landmarks she recognized in this maze of an island. Idly, she wondered if Oliver had ever met Gotham's own billionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne. Somehow she doubted that. Ollie couldn't really stand the people he pretended to be.

Felicity couldn't contain the sharp inhale once she was inside. Average, this place was _not_. It was clearly federal, because there were serious men in suits—and not the business kind of serious, the I-could-kill-you-with-a-paperclip-and-not-think-tw ice kind of serious. It was scary how quickly she learned to recognize that look thanks to Ollie and Dig.

All too quickly, she realized that she was getting some attention, and it didn't take her long to figure out why. Hot pink pumps did not mesh well with "company"-issued loafers. Problem was, she had no idea what the hell to tell these guys if they asked why she was there.

"Ms. Smoak?" She whipped her head around at the sound of another female voice. A petite little redhead walked towards her, semsibly dressed in a feminine navy business suit. It would have been chic if not for the flash of a shoulder holster Felicity saw as the woman extended her hand.

"Hi," she managed lamely, determined not to let the sight of the weapon freak her out. "I'm, uh, Felicity—but I guess you already knew that, huh?"

She smiled—beamed, more like it. "I do, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same," she replied. "I'm Camille, as I'm sure you already guessed. You can call me Cam."

Felicity nodded, losing some of her nerves and then gaining them back when she noticed more stares. "So… is this the whole place?"

Cam laughed lightly—apparently her question was funny for some reason. "Oh no, this isn't where we'll be working," she said, pretty blue eyes lighting up pleasantly. "Our division is… highly specialized."

Well, _that_ didn't sound foreboding or anything. "Here, let me take you to our office. I think you'll like the setup."

Felicity didn't know if the wink Cam added at the end was meant to calm or concern her, but she settled on staying cautious, just in case. She didn't know anything about this woman, she reminded herself.

That wasn't entirely true. She could Google search with the best of them, and yet there had been next to nothing of value on Camille Janing. That only made Felicity dig deeper, determined to find something, anything that could get her some answers. Only when she hacked the FBI's database did she find a few files, but even that was heavily redacted. Either Cam had some hacker skills that rivaled her own, or the girl had major secrets that the Feds had no problem covering up.

"The government's known what's been going on in Starling City for quite some time, Felicity," she said as she led her past all the hulking soldiers and down one of the myriad halls. "Not much different than what's been happening here, in Gotham."

Her eyebrows shot up at the offhanded admission. She had been hearing bits and pieces, occasionally on the news but most of it on the 'net. Gotham had a vigilante of its own, one that was even more content with hiding in the shadows than Ollie. And the scary part was that their rumors had been around even longer than Green Arrow. But she was never sure what was fact and what was fiction, _especially_ considering Ollie.

"Now, my supervisors would never admit this out loud, but we can all recognize the positives of having individuals that work outside the law handle the more curious cases."

Felicity tilted her head. "You mean, like having a group of vigilantes… reporting to the Feds?" she asked for clarification.

Cam hummed. "Sort of," she answered. "Not directly to the government. More like laterally." They stepped into the elevator at the end of the hallway, and when she punched in the number she pressed her hand into the console underneath. The screen scanned her handprint and the elevator began moving.

"Now, again, you don't have to work for us if you don't want to, but I think you'll find that you do," Cam told her. She sounded proud, like this project was her baby or something.

"Why, you guys got really good coffee or something?" she joked, smiling crookedly.

The elevator dinged. "Something like that," Cam replied with a smirk of her own as the door slid open. Felicity turned her attention on the office, shock registering as she took in the truly remarkable amount of high-end equipment they had on hand. The number of state-of-the-art of computers lined against the far wall was staggering, and—good Lord, was that a mass spectrometer? This was geek heaven.

Felicity stepped out, so preoccupied with identifying all the pieces of tech that she almost missed the three people in the room. In particular, the one lounging on the long conference table.

"_You_." The word was out of her mouth before she could process it, laced with as much venom as she had in her. She knew she was no match, but Dig and Ollie had been training her more and more. If that psycho wanted to try something, she wasn't willing to go down easy.

For her part, Helena Bertinelli looked only mildly concerned. "You," she repeated, smiling slyly to a joke only she understood. "And without your hero to protect you?"

Cam stepped in between them, eyeing both women curiously. "Our information did indicate that you made some trips to Starling City, but I had no idea you knew each other _personally_."

Oh, the bitch looked crafty, alright. "I wouldn't say _personally_," she told Cam, reciting the same inflection back. "I've had some dealings with their hero, so Felicity and I have crossed paths a time or two."

She barely held back a snarl. "You put a _crossbow_ to my head and then left me there, tied up."

Helena shrugged a slim shoulder. "He was coming to rescue you," she said dismissively. "You were fine."

Cam stepped in front of Felicity, her expression genuinely apologetic. "But that was a few years ago, right?" she asked, her smile nervous. "This division was created with the intention of rehabilitation as much as protection. The Huntress is not the single minded killer she once was. She is just as much a vigilante as the Green Arrow."

Her reasoning was unfortunately effective enough to work on Felicity. She was never one for long bouts of rage, even if she was still pissed about the whole held-a-crossbow-at-my-head thing. Grudges were Helena's thing, not hers. It didn't hurt that she had been hearing similar things floating around the 'net about Huntress, who had been floating around Blüdhaven. With the unfortunate "accidental" death of Frank Bertinelli, Helena had finally been given the chance to end her revenge and start on redemption.

"Everybody playing along nicely?" Felicity glanced over. In her rage-fueled tunnel vision, she had neglected to pay attention to the other two women in the room. Tall and more than a little imposing, she was wearing what looked like a soldier's uniform, only with a pleated skirt rather than pants. She kind of looked like Barbie, if Barbie could bench press a car.

"Probably not," Helena quipped, walking over to them as she tossed some extra-long dark hair over her shoulder.

"What a shame," she replied. She had the slightest accent, barely detectable, but if Felicity had to guess some region Eastern Europe. She regarded Felicity with curiosity. "Huntress is normally good at that."

"You don't have to remind me." The last woman in the room was still sitting at one of the computer consoles. Her hands went to the wheels on both sides of her chair, and the reason she was sitting made itself very apparent. She was a redhead, too, only hers was long and pulled back. Felicity thought her glasses, simple black frames, were pretty cute, too. "I'm well acquainted with Huntress' temperament."

"This isn't the whole team, mind you," Cam piped up, pulling out a computer tablet from seemingly nowhere. "In addition, we're attempting two recruit a vigilante from Japan and another from New York, not to mention a fellow tech specialist out of Metropolis."

She glanced up at Felicity with a smile. "If this works out, this will be the first government-sanctioned unit of entirely vigilantes. This could be a real turning point in how we view alternative methods of the law."

Felicity hesitated, staring at each of the women in turn as she tried to process all the new information she'd been given. Cam was right. If this worked out, they would be an extraordinary team of heroes with an already impressive roster of accomplishments under their belts. But that was a pretty big if… and it required all those questions she had to work out perfectly. And Felicity had a _lot_ of questions.

"I understand what you guys are going for but… why me?" she asked, fiddling with the strap of her purse. "I mean, why not recruit Green Arrow or your guy in Gotham… not the weird computer girl that works for Queen Consolidated."

"They're not team players, as I'm sure you've already figured out," the redhead in the wheelchair replied. "And we've been looking for people with a variety of talents, and we have information that you could give me and our Metropolis girl a run for our money in hacking. That's not something the Green Arrow can do."

Felicity resisted a laugh, biting the inside of her cheek. "I guess," she admitted. She was just so curious about these women, in particular the job they were expected to do. There were just so many possibilities at play here… and most of them had dangerous outcomes. She wondered if she was prepared enough to handle it.

"There's no long-term commitment," Cam assured her. "You can stay or leave whenever you like."

"And the pay's nothing to sneeze at," the blonde added with a smirk.

Helena turned to her, dark eyes narrowing. "So whaddya say, IT girl: you in or you out?"

Felicity opened up her mouth, the words caught in her throat as she struggled to weigh her options. In the end, she went with her instincts, and prayed it was the right reaction. "I'm in."

They all smiled at her. Cam was the first one to speak up. "Fantastic. Welcome to Project Birds of Prey."

$4$

As I said, this was largely inspired by rewatching _Justice League_, in particular seeing Huntress again, who was one of my favorites on the show (voiced by Fred from _Angel_ !), and just one of my favorites in general. I really haven't liked how they've portrayed her on the show, which thus far has just been to make her out as a villain, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of introducing a character as complex as Helena Bertinelli. I'm hoping that will change as the show continues.

For anyone that is as much of a comic geek as me, I know I fudged around the location of Star(ling) City. Technically it's supposed to be on the West Coast, not East, but we introduced Blüdhaven a few episodes prior so I assumed the writers are keeping those cities close, as opposed to on opposite coasts. I'm not sure to be honest, but for the sake of simplicity I put Starling City around Baltimore, because it is supposed to be kind of a harbor city. Gotham has always been rooted in New Jersey, while Blüdhaven is lower, somewhere near Atlantic City. I know I put way more energy into sorting this out than anyone else should, but I really hate it when I mess up comic book information like that.

Regardless, this was still just a fun romp for me to make lots of comic references in a short space. Hope you appreciated it, too.


End file.
